


The Riot

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M, Other: See Story Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:12:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair ignores Jim's orders about not attending an rally.  Jim decided to make sure it does not happen again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Riot

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains disciplinary spanking. If you don't like, don't read.

## The Riot

by Mary M., Mary Ann D. & Martha B.

**Archivist's note** : Due to confusion on the part of some readers, I've changed both the rating and warnings on this story and added this note. This story contains non-sexual discipline/spanking. If that sort of thing bothers you, please hit your back button now. Nita

Author's disclaimer: The Sentinel and all related characters are the property of Paramount Pictures and Pet Fly Productions. No copyright infringement intended. 

First of all, we would like to thank the two people, Montage and Klair, who gave us much advice and improved this story greatly. Thanks also to Nancy, our first Fanfiction friend and without whose prodding and threats, this story would never have been written. Thanks does not even begin to cover it :-) 

We would appreciate any other comments you would like to throw our way, please do so to: mrymrymrha@aol.com . 

* * *

"The Riot" 

<SLAM> Blair burst through the front door, slamming the door behind him, muttering about the insensitivity and rudeness of certainSentinels. A minute later an equally angry, but more controlled, Jim walked into the loft. 

"Sandburg, this little temper tantrum of yours is not helping matters at all," Jim said in a very controlled voice, watching the frustrated younger man stalk around the loft still muttering to himself. 

"Go to hell, Jim!" Blair spat back as he walked into his bedroom, slamming the door so hard that Ellison would not have been surprised to see the glass break. 

Debating between hauling his roommate out and dealing with the issue right now or leaving Blair alone for awhile to calm down, Jim chose the second option and sat down to watch some television, cooling the heat of the moment with distraction. Every so often, he extended his hearing, focusing in on the restless attempts of his guide to calm himself. When it seemed that Blair had run out of steam, Jim got up and knocked on his door. 

"Blair, I want to talk about this afternoon," Jim said through the glass. 

"Go away, man, you're the last person I want to talk to right now" said an angry, but hurt-sounding voice. 

Hearing the constant mutterings of frustration, knowing the matter was not put to rest, Jim slowly opened the door and peered in. Lying on his bed with his arm draped over his eyes, Blair stiffened at the sound of intrusion. 

"Chief, I think we need to talk about what happened this afternoon." 

"NO! We don't need to talk about it. I know what happened. You humiliated me in front of Rafe and Brown! Blair yelled, jumping up. "You treated me like some wayward dog that needed to be tied up, because you didn't trust it! YOU HANDCUFFED ME TO A BED!Now get the hell out of my room," Blair yelled, pushing Jim partially out of the room. 

"Stop it, Sandburg! Jim shot back, bracing himself against further expulsion. "We are going to get some things straight right now! Get out here! I won't have you burrowing yourself in your room and pouting." He grabbed Blair's upper arms and half pulled, half carried the resisting man out of his room and plopped him on the couch. When Blair started to jump up, Jim stopped him cold with a glare that would have frozen water. Blair sank back onto the couch, arms crossed. 

"First off , I did not treat you like a dog. I treated you like a person who would not listen to reason even after I explained three different times that you needed to stay with Rafe and Brown for your own safety. I treated you like a person who had escaped once before and was in the process of escaping again when I caught him. I treated you like someone who was acting so childish they could not be trusted. Secondly, if I had wanted to humiliate you, I would have put you over my knees, pulled down your jeans and given you the spanking you truly deserved! Which do you think would have embarrassed you more, Chief? 

Blair did not answer; he just glared at Jim. 

"I'm waiting for an answer," Jim said, after a few moments of silence. 

"Fine! Yes, daddy," Blair said in a sing-songy, childish voice, "a spanking would have been much worse. Thank you so much for simply handcuffing me to the bed." The sarcasm dripped from his voice and Blair made a move to get up again. 

Stiffening at the sarcasm, Jim went into full authoritarian mode. "Sit down, Sandburg, we're not done yet. Fine, from now on, you don't follow my orders when we are at work, you deliberately disobey me when I tell you do something, I will haul you home at the first possible moment, bare your butt and give you the spanking you are asking for. Is that understood?" 

When Blair did not answer, Jim said, "Do I have to give you an example of what I am talking about," as he stalked over to Blair, reaching for him. 

"NO! I understand. If I don't follow your every wish, your every command, you are going to beat me." 

"Only if you keep up that attitude," Jim shot back. 

Blair glared at him for a moment, then rising quickly to avoid capture, he stormed back into his room. 

Jim hesitated a moment, thinking about forcing the issue, but thinking better of it, he shrugged. Let him cool off. Let ME cool off. This whole discussion went downhill quickly,he thought to himself as he shut off the TV and walked upstairs. 

* * *

The next morning, Jim awoke to the sounds of Blair cooking breakfast. Coming downstairs, he noticed the younger man glancing up at him. Quickly deciding that the eggs needed his full attention, the anthropologist lowered his head, shielding his face with a curtain of hair. After taking care of his shower and shaving, Jim came back into the kitchen. 

Without looking up from the frying pan, Blair said in a very low voice, "I'm sorry I lost my temper, yesterday. I was just mad and embarrassed and upset and...." as his voice dropped almost too low for the sentinel to hear. 

"What did you say, Chief, I didn't catch the last part?" the detective asked, hiding a smile. 

Spinning around, Blair took a deep breath and said in a loud, clear, voice, "and you were right. I was being stupid by not listening to you and you were right to handcuff me to the bed to make sure I stayed there, since I guess you really couldn't trust me." He turned back to the frying pan quickly and busied himself stirring the eggs. 

Walking over to his repentant Guide, Jim put a comforting hand on his back. "Thanks, Chief, I'm sure that was hard to say and I appreciate it. I'll still follow through on my promise if it happens again---that still doesn't change---but I appreciate it." 

Blair glanced at him, "What promise?" 

"You know." 

Blair turned red and opened his mouth as if to object, but thought better of it after seeing the look on Jim's face. One again, he decided that the eggs were in need of his full attention. 

While they were eating and reading the paper, Blair asked in quiet voice 'Would you really do it?" 

Jim knew immediately what "it" was. "Yep. Disobey me again and watch what happens. Just don't plan on any long meetings the next day," he said calmly without looking up from the paper. 

Blair just nodded and ducked back into the paper, blushing. 

* * *

Later that morning, as Jim was finishing paperwork from an arrest the  
day before. Simon walked out of his office and stood at his best detective's  
desk.

"I was just about to go to lunch, want to go get Mexican, lots of cheese and sour cream and refried beans and no Sandburg to make faces at the fat content. How does that sound?" 

Glancing down at the paperwork, grinning broadly, Jim jumped up, "Sounds like a plan - lets go." 

* * *

Once the drinks and food were ordered, Simon's face pulled itself into a tight, pensive cast. Jim had learned to read over time the expression that clearly stated there was something on his Captain's mind. 

"Jim, I was wondering how Sandburg was. Rafe said that he was pretty pissed at you last night. Did you actually handcuff him to the bedpost?" Simon asked, trying not to smile. 

"Simon, he had already escaped the apartment once and was halfway down the fire escape the second time before Rafe and I were able to catch him. He was mad about being put under police protection, determined to go work in the library and too headstrong to listen to anyone. What else was I suppose to do? I didn't even trust him enough just to make him stay in the same room with Rafe when I left. You know him---once he gets an idea into that brain of his, it takes a strong force to dislodge it." Jim finished his little episodic adventure into the "Sandburg Zone" with a laugh and a shake of his head, remembering how mad Blair was afterwards when Jim literally picked him up and carried him back into Rafe's apartment. He had been rather impressed with Blair's vocabulary and wondered for a moment where someone, who supposedly had spent so much of his adult life in the academic world, had picked up such language. 

"So, did the two of you get into it last night once you got home?" 

Tension creased Jim's face as he remembered the silent treatment all the way home and then, the temper tantrum that Blair had thrown when the silence got too much for him. "To some degree, he said I had treated him like a dog and embarrassed him. I told him that I had not even begun to embarrass him, but I could the next time if he really wanted to see embarrassed." 

The waitress placed their meals in from of them, momentarily interrupting their conversation. Once privacy was insured, Simon asked, "What do you mean by embarrass him? How?" Knowing that Jim typically would never do anything to hurt Blair, he also knew that the detective had a short fuse when his guide insisted on doing things his own way, ignoring everything and everyone else. 

Glancing at his food for a moment, Jim considered his threat. Then looking straight at Simon and with firm resolve, he said "I told him that if he deliberately disobeyed me again, I would take him home, turn him over my knees and spank him." His look almost dared Simon to say anything against his decision. 

Instead, Simon thought for a moment and then began to nod his head. "You know, it would get his attention. Even though Darryl is 16, I have still turned him over once or twice in the last year. It gets his attention and conveys the fact that I mean business---the undesirable behavior stops immediately. God knows neither one of them listens to us half the time. What did Blair say when you gave him your ultimatum?" 

"Nothing really, he made a couple of smartass comments and went stomping back into his bedroom. He did ask me about it again this morning, about whether or not I was serious and if I would really spank him," Jim replied around a mouthful of taco. 

"Well, keep me posted. I can bring in a pillow for him the next day." Simon said with a laugh. 

"Don't you dare even mention to him that I told you about this. Please." 

"Jim, you have my word. Anything you can do to make sure Blair stays safe and where he belongs is fine with me. Just try not to hurt him too badly." 

"Never, especially if he does what I ask him to do," Jim replied with a laugh. 

* * *

The next two weeks passed quickly. Jim was busy on several different cases, but luckily, Blair was never too busy with school so he was able to help almost everyday. On the few occasions that Jim asked him to stay in the truck, he did. True, he was not happy and voiced his displeasure often and loudly until a stern look from Jim put a stop to the running commentary. 

The peace began to crumble on Friday night. They were driving home from work and neither one felt like cooking, plus it was Jim's turn to shop and he had put if off. 

"You know, man, just because next week is my turn to shop doesn't mean that you get off totally free from it. I think you should have to come with me and help since you so conveniently "forgot" this week," Blair said, teasing the him. "You know, maybe you should start writing things down. At your age...." 

Blair was cut off by a light bop to the head by Jim who came back with. "I'll tell you what, Junior, since I was supposed to shop, I'll buy dinner, even though it's YOUR night to cook. Let's just get take-out, though, I am tired and there is a game on I want to see." 

"That's cool. How about Thai?" 

"Sounds good to me. Here, why don't you go ahead and call the order in." Jim said, handing Blair the phone. 

Upon entering the restaurant, the cashier told them their order would be a few more minutes. A small, friendly man, who Blair recognized as the owner, came out to talk to Jim. Blair turned and glancing around the room noticed a fish tank. Biding his time, he sauntered over studying the colored fish that swam in quiet patterns behind the glass. A yellow paper caught his attention through the tank. Moving beyond the tank, he read the announcement. Another rally was scheduled to drum up support against Maulding/Wistrom, Inc. and their proposed buying and leveling of some 200 acres of forest just outside of Cascade. It was planned for 3:30 next Tuesday at the company's headquarters. Blair stood there for a few minutes, silently thinking about the group and how a handful of their more radical and militant followers had taken the peaceful and low-key group and tried to literally blow them onto the front page. 

"Don't even think about, Chief. I don't want you within a mile of that group. Got it?" A very serious and stern voice impinged upon his thoughts. 

Jumping up, Blair spun around. "Jesus, man, try not to give me a heart attack before the age of 30, okay? Don't worry, I wasn't planning on attending, I was just looking ..." 

"Yeah, looking like you were thinking about going. Let me say it again for those who are a little slow, I don't want you within a mile radius of that building, of that group, of that protest rally. Do I need to tell you what is going to happen if I find out you were there?" 

"No. I only got involved with them because I wanted to help," said Blair in a quiet voice. 

Jim reached over and gently bopped his guide on the head. "I know, Chief, and you did help them by turning in that splinter group who were planning on blowing up the Maulding/Wistrom Headquarters, killing God only knows how many. You, YOU, Blair Sandburg, kept this group from being labeled murderers. You have helped them and their cause more then they will ever know. I am very proud of you. Now... if you had just stayed in Rafe's apartment when we were rounding up the group...." Jim trailed off with amusement in his voice. 

Blair looked up and smiled. "Thanks, Jim, that means a lot." 

Looking like he was about to say something else, Jim was interrupted by the arrival of their order. Instead, he said, "Come on, let's get this stuff and head home. I'm tired, hungry and the game starts in about ten minutes." 

Walking away from the announcement, both men catalogued it for future reference. 

All weekend, Blair thought about that announcement and the rally on Tuesday. A month earlier, he had seen the original announcement for a rally to protest a planned buying of 200 acres of forest and level it. He had contacted the number on the flier and spoke to Mike Asher, the leader of the grassroots organization spearheading the fight. They met later that day and found they had much in common. Asher had also been the one to spearhead protests over the planned destruction of forests in California, Oregon and Utah. Much to his surprise, Asher had been one of the first protesters to take the non-violent approach of camping up the branches of trees scheduled to be cut down. However, the more time Blair spent with the protester, the more he began to see the other man's disenchantment with the progress that was being made. He spoke more and more about the need for an "attention getter" or "something to really shake them up." Blair knew he was out of control when he was invited to a secret meeting and asked to join in with a small, underground group that was planning to blow up the headquarters building. When Blair refused to join in their plan, Asher became hostile and screamed that if he was a true believer then he would do whatever it took to save the forest. Blair told Jim that day about the group's plan. Because of the time to find and arrest the group, the detective had arranged Rafe to stay with Blair. Sandburg's belief that Asher would not hurt him, plus his stubbornness and unwillingness to postpone his plans, had made him determined to leave as soon as Jim did. His plans had not worked out the way he has wanted them to. 

* * *

By Monday morning, Blair had managed to convince himself that he really wanted to attend this rally---he needed to attend this rally. "It shouldn't matter to Jim, especially if he doesn't know about it. This group needs all the support they can get, plus I believe in what they are doing. I'll tell Jim tonight so it won't be as if I am sneaking around. Hell, I can sneak around if I want, I am a grown man. He is not my father to dictate where I go and who I see. Forget it! I am not even going to tell him, nothing is going to happen.," he argued with himself on the drive into school. 

That afternoon at the station, Blair began to lay the groundwork for his absence tomorrow from the station. While he and Jim were going over a list of potential suspects, he said in his most casual voice, "Oh, man, I forgot to tell you I can't help you tomorrow, I just found out about a meeting I have to attend at school about something." Blair winced at the last part '... something---that was the best you can come up with?' he thought to himself, 'Jim is going to suspect something now.' 

Jim, in fact, did suspect something. The student was never so concise about what was going on at school, he always rambled on about such and such professor, this or that meeting, or some new project. Ellison glanced up to study his partner, who was suspiciously absorbed in the suspect list. He focused in on his guide's heartbeat, going a little fast. There was also the telltale slight blush along Blair's cheekbones that happened whenever he was keeping something from the him. 

"Blair, look at me," the Sentinel commanded sharply, but quietly, so as not to draw the attention of the other officers around them. When Blair slowly raised his eyes from the list, Jim said, "Chief, I was very serious when I told you not to go to that rally tomorrow. Asher is out on bail as are his followers, the other members of the group have placed a restraining order on them to keep them away from the protest, but that means very little. I think that there is a good chance that some of them might show up there and I do not want you to be anywhere near them if that happens. Am I making myself clear?" 

"Crystal," Blair replied, not meeting Jim's eyes, confirming the detective's suspicions of what the younger man was planning. 

* * *

That night, Blair lay in bed, thinking about tomorrow and the protest. "I want to go. I have every right to go. Jim is not my father, he can't tell me where to go or where not to go. I don't owe him an explanation or a time sheet.' "I am an adult!" Blair said the last statement aloud as he flipped over on his stomach and tried to get some sleep. 

Upstairs, Jim had been laying in bed, listening to his guide's rapidly beating heart. He knew Blair was thinking about attending that protest. The young man was a great liar to everyone, but the older man knew him well enough to usually read the thoughts and emotions that flashed across his face. When he heard Blair say aloud to himself that he was an adult, Jim knew the decision of whether or not to attend the protest had been decided. The little devil that sometimes took up permanent residence on his guide's shoulder had won the debate. With that thought clear in his mind, Jim waged his own debate about what to Do about this act of disobedience. "Could he actually spank Sandburg? Could he deliberately cause pain and discomfort to someone he cared so deeply for?" he thought to himself, laying in bed staring out the window into the night. "Actually," he thought, "the bigger question is: Could I live without Blair? Could I live with the knowledge that he deliberately got himself hurt by acting impulsively when I might have been able to teach him to look BEFORE he leapt, instead of checking out the situation on the way down?" He smiled to himself thinking about how his roommate had made it his life's mission to get involved in everything, be a part of everything, see everything, and damn the consequences to him. It was that quality that drew Jim to him, but it was also that quality that made the detective take his responsibility as Blair's appointed "Blessed Protector" very seriously. It was a responsibility that kept him up late many a night with worry. As Jim turned over in his bed one last time before falling asleep, the knowledge that he COULD and WOULD carry out his threat to punish him if the young man disobeyed him was as firmly set into his mind as Blair's decision was set into his. There was little doubt in Jim Ellison's mind who would win. 

The next morning, when Jim come down the stairs and walked in the kitchen, Blair said, "Jim, I have thought a lot about this protest rally, today, and I understand why you don't want me to go." 

"No, Chief, it is more then a simple request. I am telling you NOT to go...period...end of discussion." Jim winced to himself at the harshness of his sentence. However, he shook it off. "I refuse to feel guilty about keeping him safe. I am doing this for his own good," he thought to himself. 

Blair nodded and said, "I know, I decided that I wouldn't add that much to the rally. One more person isn't going to make that big of a difference. I will stay safely in my office. Okay, mommy?" his frustration and annoyance slipping into his voice. 

Jim looked up, but Sandburg's back was facing him and he decided that the younger man could be annoyed at the situation. As long as he stayed in his office today, he could be as pissed as he wanted to be. He sighed, hoping that Blair would keep his word. 

* * *

Jim glanced at the clock on his computer and groaned ---it was only 10:15. How was he going to make it until 3:00, when he could legitimately drive down to the rally and confirm that his wayward guide was in fact not there. He knew Blair had promised that he wasn't going, but the nagging voice told him to see the proof for himself. 

By 11:30, Simon was tired of watching Jim shuffle the papers on his desk. 

Grabbing his coat, he walked over. Tapping Ellison on the shoulder and saying with a laugh, "Come on, Jim. You aren't getting anything done. Let's grab an early lunch and you can tell me what Sandburg has done now." 

Jim glanced at the report he had been attempting to work on and realized that he didn't remember writing a word of it. With a grateful smile, he stood up and followed his captain out of the squad room. 

"I am just so frustrated with him," Jim began, after the waitress had taken their order, "I told him specifically NOT to go near that protest rally---you know the one that Asher's group is holding in front of Maulding/Wistrom Headquarters. He promised that he wasn't going, but you know as well as I do that the truth is a flexible thing for Sandburg. I swear, I am tempted to head over to his office and handcuff him to his desk to make sure he doesn't go over there," Jim finished, shaking his head. 

"You know, Jim, maybe he got the message and is telling the truth. He knows that this is important to you. Maybe he will really work all day, and then come home and take out his frustration at not going on you this evening," Simon replied with a laugh. 

"Well, I would rather have a pissed off Sandburg than a hurt or dead one," Jim said, grimly. 

Jim had every intention of checking up on his partner's whereabouts at 3:30, but a inept bank robber managed to lock himself, a teller and three customers in the First Cascade Bank vault. Major Crimes was called in, because of the potential hostage situation. Jim and Simon received the call as they were leaving the restaurant, two blocks from the bank. 

As Jim pulled into his parking space in front of the loft, just after 7:00, he sighed. It had been a long day and he was tired. He glanced up at the loft, happy to see the lights on. Upon extending his hearing, he could pick up music coming from the loft. "Good," he thought, "that means that Blair is home. Maybe he has dinner started." 

As Jim walked in the front door, Blair looked up from his computer at the kitchen table and said, "Hey, Jim. Hard day at work? You look tired. There is not much in the cabinets, so I was thinking maybe we could order a pizza or something later. How does that sound?" 

"Yeah, Chief, that sounds fine with me," Jim said, throwing himself on the couch and closing his eyes. "I don't really care. It was a long day---speaking of which---how was yours?" 

"Oh, you know, just a day on the merry-go-round, nothing too exciting," Blair replied, not looking at Jim. 

Jim opened his eyes and studied his roommate, trying to decide if Blair was being truthful or not. His heartbeat seemed okay and he wasn't fidgeting. While Jim debated asking Blair about the rally, he reached over for the remote and flipped on the TV to watch the evening news. 

Blair jumped at the sound of the TV. Jim glanced over at him, Blair shrugged and said, "Sorry, it just startled me, I guess. Ummm, are you going to watch the news?" 

"Yeah, I usually do, why?" 

"Oh, no reason," Blair said quickly, "I'm.... I'm going to go and work in my room, okay?" 

"Oh. Okay, Let me know when you want to order dinner." 

Jim watched as Blair quickly gathered up his stuff, shoving it into piles, hurrying into his room and shutting the door. "I wonder what's going on with him," Jim thought, turning his attention back to the TV. 

Five minutes later, a roar went through the apartment "SANDBURG! Get you butt out here. NOW!" 

Jim was standing in front of the TV, which was running a report on a riot at a local protester's rally. They were highlighting the attendance of a local anthropology professor who earlier in the month has exposed a militant faction of the otherwise peaceful group. When Blair did not appear, Jim jerked open the door. "Get out here now! You want to explain this?" he said, pointing in the direction of the TV. 

"Ummm....explain what, man?" Blair asked, trying to slouch deeper into the bed. 

"Don't you 'what' me. Why is a news show doing a report on your attendance at a rally that just this morning you swore to me that you were not going to attend?" Jim asked, trying to remain calm at his guide's complete disobedience again. 

Blair looked down at the blanket on his bed, nervously fingering a small crease in the blanket; he did not look up as he mumbled, "I didn't swear that I wasn't going." 

"Get out here - we need to talk!" As he stormed over to Blair, he smelled something, pausing for a minute he looked at Blair. "Why do I smell blood? Did you get hurt this afternoon? What else happened that you didn't tell me about?" Jim asked, furiously. Not only did his guide deliberately disobey his orders, it now seemed that he was keeping important information from him. 

Taking a deep breath, Jim focused on staying calm. "Okay, Blair, where did you get hurt?" 

A little taken aback by the sudden shift in moods from his roommate, Blair hesitantly answered "It is just a small cut - it is really nothing man - it doesn't hurt much - promise." 

Jim glared at him with that last statement and Blair had the decency to blush. "Show me where," Jim growled, still struggling with his desire to kill his guide. 

Blair sighed and sat up. Pushing a lock of hair away from his temple, he exposed a nasty looking lump along with a small cut running along the bottom of it. 

"Shit, Sandburg! Did you get this checked out! How did this happen? I told you there was going to be problems at that rally!" 

"Hold on man. First off, YES, I got it checked out and it's fine. See, it didn't even need stitches. Secondly, this is what happens when a solid piece of glass, namely a Coke bottle, hits you on the head; see the blood rushes to the site of injury..." Blair trailed off, noticing that his attempt at humor was having the reverse effect on his Blessed Protector. It looked like his Blessed Protector was about to wring his neck. "I am fine, Jim. I am going to live. No permanent damage," he said softly. 

"This time," was all Jim said, before walking out of the bedroom and into the living room. 

Blair sat on his bed and listened as the older man walked through the loft and onto the balcony. He picked up his papers, intending to finish his grading, but he couldn't stop listening for Jim to come back in. Sighing, he laid his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, "I know I screwed up, Jim, and I am sorry. I should have stayed out of the way like you said. Please come back in...don't be mad at me." Blair said quietly, trusting in the fact that the Sentinel would be listening. His head hurt and the cool wall felt good against it. "Please, Jim---I am sorry---I just wanted to help," he said again, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. 

He had a headache, his best friend was mad at him and his conscious was bothering him. He knew the small riot this afternoon was aggravated by his presence. 

Asher's people were keeping to themselves until they spotted him, then all hell broke loose. A couple of the guys started shouting "traitor" at him, that got the other protesters shouting at Asher's people. Who threw the first punch? Blair wasn't sure, but within seconds it seemed that people were running all over, yelling, signs originally designed to be carried peacefully were now used as weapons. Within minutes, the police were there, separating the two groups. Blair was making a hasty retreat when, after hearing his name called, he turned just in time to hear someone say, "Take this, Traitor," and feel a bottle hit him on the forehead. He had managed to stagger back to his car before passing out. 

"Does your head hurt, Chief?" said a voice from the doorway. 

Blair sat up, grimacing. "Yeah, sort of. It's just a headache." 

Jim sighed. He came back a minute later with a couple of aspirin and a glass of water. "Here, take these and try to get some sleep. Did you take anything at the doctor's office or did they give you anything for the pain?" 

"Ummm, no," Blair said swallowing the pills. 

Jim looked at him. "But you did go to the doctor, right?" 

When Blair did not answer immediately, Jim muttered several curses and said, "Shit, Sandburg. All right, get up. We're going to the Emergency Room." 

"WHAT? NO! Jim, I'm fine! A friend of mine, who is a nursing student, looked at it and said that it was fine. She said I didn't have a concussion and I didn't need stitches! Lighten up, man. It's a minor cut!" 

"Blair," Jim sighed, "It doesn't matter to me if it is the size of a pinprick, I want you to be safe. I need to make sure that you know that your safety is the most important thing to me. Do you?" 

"Jim, I know, but I'm fine." 

"Yeah, fine this time. But what about next time you get something in your head, when you ignore good advice---what I tell you to do for your own good---and insist on doing it your own way? What then, Chief?" 

"I don't know, Jim. I wish I could promise that I would follow your orders all the time. I wish I could promise never to do something without thinking out all of the consequences, but I can't. That is not who I am. I jump headfirst into life. I need to do that, and I like knowing that you are there to catch me if I fall," Blair finished, looking down at the blanket on his bed. "I need you, Jim, as much as you need me." 

Jim did not move for a moment and then in a burst of motion, he pulled Blair into his arms and hugged him, whispering into his hair, "I give you my word that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, Chief, but I need you to work with me." 

Blair just nodded, feeling very safe and protected. 

After a few minutes, Jim broke apart, saying, "Come on, Blair. I think you should go to bed. It is late and you've had a hard day. We have a lot to discuss tomorrow." He gently pushed Blair back, turning down the blankets. 

Blair laughed and slid under the covers; rolling onto his side he looked up at his Sentinel and said "What more do we have to talk about. I already promised to be more careful and I mean it." 

"Yes, I am sure you mean it, but I told you what would happen if you deliberately disobeyed me again, didn't I, Chief? I don't want to get into it tonight, but we will take care of it first thing tomorrow morning." 

"WHAT? " Blair yelled, sitting up in bed. "I TOLD you I understand! You don't have to do ANYTHING. I promise, I will try harder...." 

"I know what you said. I also heard you when you told me this morning that you weren't going to attend that rally. Now, you lied to me then, I need to make sure you remember longer then 7 hours next time I tell you not to do something," Jim said, a trace of impatience slipping into his voice. "Good night, Chief." With that, he stood up and walked out of the room, flipping the light off as he left, leaving the younger man sitting in bed, wondering how to get out of this situation. 

* * *

The next morning, Blair woke up early. As soon as he stood up, Jim opened the door. Jumping, Blair cried out, "Damn Jim! Ever thought about knocking first?" Then he looked at the detective. "Oh shit," Blair thought, "he was serious about what he said last night." Jim had schooled his faced into the stern, no-nonsense expression that Blair knew meant trouble for him. 

"Sandburg, take care of whatever you need to and then I want you right back in here. Understand? We are going to get this behavior of yours taken care of first thing this morning." Jim said in his sternest voice. After tossing and turning last night, he had finally come to peace with what he had to do. Blair needed to be taught a lesson and while Jim did not relish spanking the young man, he realized that he had promised to do so and needed to carry out his promise. 

Blair quickly fled into the bathroom, pushing past Jim. Looking in the mirror, he stared deep into his own eyes. 

The rational, logical part of his mind said "Get a grip, Sandburg. What is the worst Jim is going to do to you? Give you a few swats across the butt. No big deal, make him feel better, it is not going to hurt you that much, except maybe your pride some. You did cause problems at that rally, you did lie to Jim. You know you need Jim to rein you in sometimes." 

"NO" screamed the emotional part of his mind. "Don't let him treat you like a child! You have every right to do what you want, when you want! You didn't hurt ANYONE! He is going to HURT you! Run!" 

"Don't do it - look at all that Jim has given you; love, security, a sense of belong. You want that. You crave the security he offers. Without Jim, you are going to be alone again -no one to watch out for you. ALONE -- again." 

Blair stomach tightened; bowing his head, he rested it on his folded hands resting on the counter. The two sides of Blair Sandburg were at war with each other. 

Every instinct that he had learned since childhood was telling him to run, to fight, and not to let himself be hurt. But the security side of Blair was fighting hard too. This side was a newer one, but growing in strength every day. This side loved having a place to call "home". Loved knowing that someone was waiting at night to make sure he got in safely. And loved have a Blessed Protector to keep a firm hand on him when his emotional side ran free. 

A firm knock on the bathroom door startled Blair from his thoughts. "Sandburg, hiding in the bathroom is not going to work. You have another minute before I break down this door and I promise, you don't want me to do that." 

Blair bit back a smart comment and said instead "I'll be out in a second, Jim." 

He had heard Blair's sighs and some muttered comments. Jim thought to himself, sitting at the dining room table, "I don't want to do this to him, I don't want to hurt him. But, I cannot allow him to continue to disobey me, to take risks with his safety; not while I'm around. I gave him fair warning - he knew what would happen and he chose not to believe me. His choice, he has to deal with the consequences." 

Taking a deep breath, Blair opened the door and walked out. He was still torn as to which side had won the argument. He saw Jim sitting at the table, drinking coffee. He saw the front door beckoning. He saw the warmth and safety of the loft. 

As Blair walked out of the bathroom, Jim glanced up and said, "Okay, go into your room. I will be in there in a few minutes." 

Without consciously being aware that he was making his decision, Blair nodded, his voice failing him. Walking into his room, he sat down on his bed, nervously chewing his bottom lip. Not being able to stand it anymore, Blair jumped up and began pacing the small room. He debated about throwing on a pair of jeans on over his boxers before Jim came in. On his third lap around the room, the door opened and Jim walked in. Jumping slightly, Blair did not say anything. Jim walked over to the bed and sat down. 

"Come here, Blair" Jim said, slowly and calmly, motioning to the scared younger man. 

Blair walked over to Jim, stopping a few feet from him. "Jim, don't do this to me. I am an adult - not a child! I won't do it again!" 

Instead of answering, Jim sighed and reached over to Blair, drawing him closer. Blair dug in his heals and pulled against him. 

"Stop!" his voice rising in panic as his emotions made one last attempt to avoid taking responsibility. "Please - I swear - I won't do it again! I will pay attention! Don't do this to me". Blair pulled as hard as he could and briefly managed to break free. 

Jim was on him before he had managed to take a step. Grabbing him by the arm, Jim landed a firm swat across Blair butt. "Get back here Sandburg, don't make this any harder then it is already" Jim said over Blair's startled yelp. 

Jim dragged Blair back to the bed and sat down, drawing him across his lap. Blair's head and arms rested on one side of the bed while his legs barely reached the floor on the other side. Blair immediately tried to twist around, with a look of panic on his face. "Please, Jim, I'm sorry, please..." 

"Listen to me Sandburg, be quiet and listen to me for one minute." Jim patiently waited until the struggling form calmed down, eagerly hopeful a reprieve might be at hand. 

"Do I have your attention?" Jim asked, securing the younger man tightly against his belly and insuring himself a captive audience. 

"Yeah, man, I'm listening." Hope evident in the negotiator's voice. 

"I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me. Would you be more apt to listen to my edicts the next time, if I didn't follow through on the promised retaliation? 

"Yeah, of course! Hey, I know you're serious now! I promise, never again." 

"Why do you know I'm serious now, Chief, when you didn't think I was serious before?" 

Blair squirmed uneasily, not liking where this conversation was going. He could see the trap, but couldn't see a way around it. "Because I'm over your knee ... because you ...." 

"Exactly, Chief, because I am going to do what I said I would, just like I will the next time you disobey me or endanger your life. Your own logic just confirmed the necessity of a follow through. Do you understand why you're being spanked?" 

"I understand Jim, but I don't want you too! I said I was sorry and I mean it! I won't do it again." 

"I am sure you mean that Blair. But you are suppose to accept the consequences of your actions. You knew what would happen if you went to that rally and you chose to go anyway. I have to put a stop to it and this is the best why I can think of to get my point across." 

The anger and frustration winning out over Jim's concern about hurting his guide. With that, he raised his right hand and brought it down hard against his guide's bottom. 

Blair jumped on impact, yelping. He started squirming, but was held in place by Jim's other arm. The Sentinel quickly raised his hand and repeatedly brought it down across his guide's butt. Blair threw all of his weight toward the floor, but Jim only tightened his grip and drew him closer to his chest and raised his hand to deliver another swat. 

By the tenth swat, Blair's yelps had turned into gasps and tears were dangerously close to the surface. The tears were more from embarrassment and the knowledge that he had let down someone who was counting on him, then from pain. "Please Jim...I'll be more careful...I am sorry....please stop!" Blair cried out. 

"Chief," Jim said, pausing for a minute, "I know you are sorry and I know you promise to follow my orders, but you have made that promise before and broken it. I am tired of it. I want you to remember this and know for sure that I won't hesitate to spank you again the next time you forget." With that, he proceeded to deliver another ten swats to his guide's bottom. By the time he was through, Blair lay softly crying, trying hard to control his breathing. 

Jim sat there, gently rubbing his back and allowing him to cry himself out. After a few more minutes, when Blair's crying had tapered off to small hiccups and sniffling, Jim helped him stand up. Blair immediately began to try to rub some of the stinging out of his bottom, refusing to meet Jim's eyes. 

Deciding that Blair could use some privacy to regain his composure, Jim stood up. Patting him on the shoulder as he left, he said, "I know that was tough, Chief, but I think you and I both know that it was necessary. Right?" 

Blair didn't answer; instead, he studied the carpet on his floor, still sniffling. He heard Jim walk out and shut the door. Flopping down on his bed, Blair reflected on the last 10 minutes: the pain, the embarrassment of being treated like a child, the knowledge that he had disappointed and let down Jim. 

"A five-year-old who lied and foolishly rushed into situations, ignoring the advice of those who knew better." his logical side nagged him again. "You were asking for it - you want that control - you want him to catch you when you fall and the price of that net is following his rules." 

Sighing, Blair knew that there was something he had to do. Twisting slightly in bed, he raised his head and said, "Right, Jim." 

Out on the balcony, that acceptance brought a smile to the sentinel's face. 

The End 


End file.
